I’d loved my son from the beginning even though I’d let my trauma and addictions nearly destroy us both. And that love? It would never end.
“Let’s put that theory to the test, shall we?” Smiling from ear to ear, Maddie slipped her hand into her back pocket of her shorts. After pulling out her phone, she tapped the screen a few times before pushing it in my direction. “Have a look, Grandpa.”
Grandpa…
My head spun at the moniker.
Yet, I smiled like a damned loon.
Unaware of what she was trying to show me, I took the cell from her hand, brows furrowed. “What is—” When I saw the black and white video playing across the screen, my lips fell silent, and my legs nearly buckled.
How I remained standing, I’ll never know.
“This is your ultrasound,” I mumbled, heart swelling as I stared unblinking at the beautiful life my boy and his pretty girl had created. “And that’s my…” Tongue suddenly too heavy to move, my words died.
“Yeah, it’s your grandkid, Pop,” Hendrix finished for me, pride clear in his voice. “And one half of my entire world.”
“Turn up the volume.” Voice nothing more than a strangled whisper, Maddie was on the verge of choking up. “I’m sure you’ll want to hear—”
I didn’t give her the chance to finish.
I turned up the volume immediately.
A second later, a steady thumping filled the room. As soon as my brain registered what the sound was, every bit of the anguish I’d felt minutes before abated.
Completely.
And it was all because of a single heartbeat.
“Hey, Peanut,” I whispered, warmth radiating through my chest as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I’m your Pop-Pop.” I sounded like an idioto, as Carmen would say. Busy nearly bursting at the seams with adoration, I didn’t give two shits how stupid I sounded. “And I’m going to love you forever.”
It was an oath I made with my whole heart.
And one that I would never break.
Twenty-Two
James
At half-past midnight, I left the station.
Still walking on cloud nine thanks to the ultrasound video Maddie had shown me earlier in the day, I wasn’t paying a single bit of attention to my surroundings as I damned near skipped across the dark parking lot like a three-year-old riding a candy-induced sugar high, my worn duffle bag thrown over my shoulder.
But my inattentiveness quickly changed when, body suddenly tensing, the hair on my nape stood on end as the unmistakable feeling of being watched caused my skin to prick. Chest heaving, I came to an abrupt stop and turned my head as an ember of hope flared in my gut.
Pulse beginning to race, I clenched my hands into fists and sent up a silent prayer that the eyes I could feel raking over me belonged to her, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and one who’d become my obsession, my future, and my salvation all wrapped up in one.
It was a senseless prayer to make because in my fucked-up heart, I knew it was Carmen. I would’ve bet my life on it. No one else called to my heart and commanded my soul’s attention like her.
Needing to know if I was right, I pulled in a deep breath. Then, palms sweaty, I turned my head.
Bingo!
My heart jumped, swear to Christ it did when my eyes landed on the form standing beneath a busted out streetlight across the traffic-less street. Most wouldn’t have noticed my gorgeous girl standing there, her stunning face and petite frame cloaked by the darkness.
But me? I spotted her immediately.
Close to bursting out of my skin at the unexpected but welcomed sight of her, I gripped the strap of my duffle with a trembling hand and headed her way without wasting another damned second.
Hurried, impatient steps matched my quickened breaths, I made it across the scorching Georgia asphalt in record time. But the moment my boots hit the dingy sidewalk where she stood, an instant chill descended.
Something wasn’t right.
I sensed it right away.
“Sweetheart,” I said, apprehension freezing my insides. “What’s wrong?” My gruffly spoken question was met with silence, increasing my rising panic tenfold.
Blood pressure sky high, I stepped forward, erasing all but six inches of space between us. A bead of sweat slid down the side of my tightened face as my frantic gaze searched her covered frame for any sign of physical injury.
I saw none.
Growing more concerned with each heart-pounding second that ticked by, I dropped my bag, wrapped a lone arm around her back, and pulled her into me. Chests softly colliding, I cupped her slender jaw with my free hand and tilted her head back.
Relief flooded my veins, warming me from the inside out when our eyes met, and I saw that hers were neither dilated nor pinned. Just as her skin wasn’t pale or covered in sweat that was caused by something other than the humid Southern heat.
She’s still clean…
A tidal wave of relief crashed through me at the realization, yet fear and anxiety remained, refusing to let go. “Carmen,” I repeated, ever-present worry gnawing my churning gut. “Sweetheart, tell me—”
“It’s his birthday,” she finally answered, her voice a broken whisper of sorrow.
Confusion set in; my brow furrowed.
“Beautiful, who—”
“Mi hermanito,” she interrupted, answering my unfinished question. “Today is his birthday, and it’s the sixteenth one I’ve missed.” Eyes screwed shut, she jerked in place, the hurt she felt nearly tearing her apart.
At the sight, my stomach dropped.
Straight to my feet.
“I don’t even know if he’s alive to celebrate such an occasion,” she whispered, shoulders shaking as her anguish burst free in the form of an uncontrollable sob, rocking her small frame. “But if he is, who will bake him his favorite cake?”
Hands wrapping around my forearm, she dug her blunt nails into my skin, nearly drawing blood as her voice cracked.
Not that I gave a shit.
The only thing I cared about was that she was anchoring herself to me when she was beginning to fall apart.
“Who will buy him a gift, Guapo?”
Fuck…
“Carmen, baby—”
“Who will sing him Happy Birthday?”
The situation was beginning to
